Closer
by zadrisala
Summary: FenrisxRogueF!Hawke pairing. Mostly written from Fenris's perspective, starting from Hawke teaching him how to read, to Bitter pill and Alone quests, maybe more. Any reviews appreciated! :) Rated M for a few smutty bits, but the lemon will be a separate chapter so you can skip if you want.
1. Push

"At Shartan's… word… words… the-sky-grew-b...black. Black with ar…"

"Arrows," Hawke nodded, giving a small, encouraging smile.

"Ah. Yes. Arrows," repeated Fenris. His brow furrowed in concentration as he looked back at the book laid open in front of them; eyes squinting slightly at the candle lit ink even though his elven eyes could see the markings clearly. His finger trailing under the words, he cleared his throat and continued.

"At Our Lady's ten… thousand," he sounded the syllables out as he took in each letter, spurred on by Hawke's nods of confirmation. "...swords, rang from their…. Sheaths….a great hym'n- hymn?" Another nod. Good. "-Rose over Va-la-ri-an Fields glad-ly pro…. Proclaiming… the slaves," Fenris knew this word well now, "were now…. Free." His eyes lingered on the last word for just a moment before his hand slid from the page and rubbed his eyes, sore from concentration.

"Well done," Hawke said, smiling warmly as she tucked a scrap piece of leather between the pages from which Fenris had been reading. She closed the thick, leather bound book with the stamped title, "The Book of Shartan", and pushed it away from them on the table. "You're getting better at this each time."

Fenris gave a sigh, closing his eyes and feeling them throb with relief. He heard Hawke chuckle softly beside him and he turned to face her.

"I had no idea reading requires so much energy," he muttered, watching her replace the candles back to their original holders around the room. The fire was blazing with a warm, dancing light, casting shadows upon her face. She laughed lightly as she sank into an armchair in front of it. "It'll get better as you get used to the letters," she reassured him, "Eventually, it won't require any effort at all." She grabbed a blanket and threw it around her knees, propping herself up on one of the chair's arms and stretching her legs.

Fenris watched her in a silent mix of wonder, gratitude, and confusion as she pokered at the fireplace to stir the flames. No one else had ever been so… comfortable around him. As long as he could remember, everyone had always been too intimidated by his appearance and manner to turn their back on him- even now, with the company he kept; if Varric and Isabella weren't too drunk to stand after poker, they would all be very obviously aware of his presence, even if it was just to give him the room he desired. But Hawke… Hawke always seems so relaxed, even if she was in the room alone with him, as she is now. The way she held herself around Fenris made him believe that she trusted him- not as a bodyguard, but as a friend… a concept that had been foreign to him until very recently.

He crossed the room to join her by the fire, sitting across from her in another piece of expensive furniture that Danarius had left behind. He could almost forget that Danarius had ever been associated with the mansion as he watched Hawke warming her hands by the fire. Through all of the travels and jobs he had gone along with- willingly, for every one, he reflected- he had come to let go some of the suspicions he had when they first met; when he had seen her sympathy towards mages. He certainly respected her strength and vigilance, her drive for justice and constant support of troubled people; even her mercy and ability to forgive those he did not think were deserving.

He glanced at her daggers, sheathed and discarded on the table behind her, next to her pouches of poisons and grenades, and sat back into the chair, relaxing his back into the cushions against his instinctive judgement. No, he did not need to be wary of Hawke… He sat upright quickly at a sudden movement from her, but she was only shifting her weight, crossing her legs. Relaxing again, Fenris felt the urge to laugh, which surprised him. He suddenly realized he trusted the human woman sitting across from him, even though his body seemed to be slow on the new sensation. She had been there each time Tevinter hunters had caught up to him. Never leaving. Each time he had been surprised to find her standing between him and the hunters, refusing to step aside. He had seen her in a rare moment of lost temper, charging down the mage who had led the tracking group, roaring with fury as she dodged the spells to cut him down.

"FENRIS WILL BE FREE OF YOU"

Her words and visible anger- usually so calm, even during battle- had almost stunned Fenris. He had reached her side barely in time to knock back a hunter who had tried to backstab her, and could not explain what he felt even to himself as he drew her to his side to shield her from a volley of arrows, being careful to miss her with his lashes of spirit energy. He only just comprehended her actions as she had lobbed a miasmic flask under his arm and yelled "Go!", and he reveled in admiration as he jumped backed from the gas, watching her aim her throwing knife at the last of the archers. Fenris had always been alone in fights. He had never had a partner he could rely on- he had never wanted one. But suddenly, he was in the company of a woman who not only relied on him, but expected him to be in sync with her actions, to seek aid from her as well. She had no expectations from him but to be her equal, her ally by choice, and even her friend.

 _Friend_. Fenris felt his heart flutter for a moment dangerously close to his throat, and he jerked to clutch at it, but seeing the concerned look in Hawke's face at this sudden movement, he swiftly rubbed the back of his neck, as though massaging a crick.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," he lied, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. She did not look convinced. "Just, feeling a little tight… I may have strained it at some point today."

Hawke frowned. "Have Anders take a look tomorrow, you don't want- oh, come on," she scowled at his expression, but she seemed to be holding back a smile, "He's good at what he does. He's healed you several times."

Fenris looked into the fireplace, fighting an urge to roll his eyes. "At your behest," he muttered, and he saw her grin out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't be like that," she said coaxingly, then made a move to stand, but hesitated. "May I… Will you let me look? If it's a knot, we can fix it and you won't have to go to Anders, if you're so against it." She added the last bit teasingly, grinning again.

He was about to confess that there was really nothing wrong with his neck, but he stopped. Fenris met her gaze. He had never allowed anyone to touch him… only by his master's orders, and healers would never touch him is they could help it. He gritted his teeth and commanded his body to stay put in the arm chair, finally nodding wordlessly at Hawke.

He wanted to trust her.

He wanted to have her next to him again.

He wanted…

Hawke rose from her chair, looking both relieved and pleasantly surprised, and stepped to his side. Fenris felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and his body fought to stay facing towards her as he tried to turn around for her to look at him. Though his expression was illegible, somehow Hawke knew.

"You can stay like this, if you prefer," she murmured, just over the crackle of the fire, but Fenris heard her as though she had talked directly into his ear. He nodded, unable to speak, unable to look away from her bright, warm, amber eyes. She held his gaze, kneeling in front of him and raising her hands slowly to his chest… his shoulders… to his clenched jaw…

Fenris felt as though a warmth was suddenly spread from his neck throughout his body at her touch. It was as though he hadn't realized that he had been cold until she placed her hands gently onto his skin. His heart throbbed again, sending an involuntary shiver through him and a pulse of light, like a ripple, through his lyrium markings. Hawke gasped and drew her hands quickly, and Fenris felt as though he was shaken back into consciousness. How could he have expected her to really want to touch him? Him and his lyrium burned skin… how could he have expected-

"Did I hurt you?" Hawke's eyes were wide, staring intently into his face to detect any sign of pain. Her worry was genuine in her voice, and she had her hands frozen in air in front of her… but she had not pulled her body away from him.

Fenris found himself momentarily thoughtless. He stared at her anxious face and slowly understood: she was not repulsed by him. She was not scared of him. She was scared of herself- scared that she may have hurt him… she was worried about him. He shook his head, still holding her gaze, somewhat confused- this was not at all what he had expected… and yet, he was not entirely surprised. Her compassion and concern for other before her at all times was one of the things he had grown to respect about her, though admittedly he thought it foolish at first. Suddenly, he felt as though his gut and heart had been unclenched by the hand of fear that had grasped onto them just a moment ago, and his face fell into a smile. A genuine, full smile.

"No," he reassured, "I'm fine. I just… wasn't fully prepared… but I'm fine. Don't worry."

Hawke still hesitated, but seemed relieved, and slightly surprised by his smile. She smiled back uncertainly, and raised her hands to his neck again. This time, Fenris took a deep breath in, steeling himself for her touch. He felt her warm hands on his skin again, but this time he could control his markings. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her even if he wanted to. He could smell her sweet scent of her incensed clothes mixed with her natural aroma, and he breathed in as deeply as he could without her noticing. Her eyes fell to his chest, concentrating on her hands. After a minute, she looked back up to him again.

"I don't feel anything," she said, still sounding concerned.

 _Of course you don't_ , thought Fenris, almost guiltily. He was almost ashamed that he had allowed himself to fool Hawke for something so simple in order to draw her closer, but the simultaneous lightness and restlessness of his heart that he had never experienced before quelled any pressure he felt to move away. He was almost painfully aware of her hands still lingering around his shoulders.

"You should still see Anders tomorrow if it still bothers you," she added firmly, making him meet her eyes. "Alright?"

Fenris felt himself smile at her again- this time, it prompted a still surprised, but warm smile back. He ignored the quip about the mage healer and repeated, "Yes, alright," granting a satisfied huff from Hawke. She still didn't move, watching him with some curiosity, and something else in her eyes that Fenris did not understand. He wanted to understand. He searched in her eyes for some hint, some notion of what she was feeling, and almost didn't register her hands sliding down, away from his chest.

He felt a sudden panic, a urge to pull her back to him. His hands moved on their own, and Hawke gave a startled little jump an almost inaudible yelp when he grasped her hand in one, her hip with the other. They both froze, unsure of what to do or say, locked eyes and faces inches away from the other.

Without warning, Hawke began to laugh- not maliciously, but a light, amused laugh, and she closed her free fingers around his hand. Fenris gave her a confused look.

"You, should have seen your face," she giggled, trying to contain her laughter. "I've never seen you look so surprised, especially never at yourself!"

Fenris watched her stifle another round of laughter, but could only concentrate on her hand, gripping his back, and the fact that she was not pulling away from him. His face slowly broke into a smile again, and he let out a low, soft chuckle at her. Her stifled laughter died down, and they sat there, Hawke still kneeling in front of him, gazing into each other's eyes; asking silent questions.

Fenris couldn't hold back anymore- he didn't want to.

"Can we stay like this… just a while longer…? I…" He took a deep breath again, "I…" but his words caught in his throat. He did not know what he wanted.

But Hawke did not press him. She touched her forehead to his, gently, and murmured, "I can stay as long as you'd like, Fenris." Her free hand cradled his neck lightly.

Fenris felt a surge of energy, like a tidal wave, flow through him. His skin seemed to burst with energy, casting blue shadows on the walls, and before Hawke could exclaim, he wrapped his arm around her strong back and stood from the chair, drawing her up with him. He pulled her to him, letting go of her hand and burying it in her hair, pressing her as close to him as they could get. Hawke responded, hugging her arms tightly around him and resting her head on his chest.

The force of their movement made them sway off balance, and he caught them by stepping back, leaning back against the table where they had been practicing his reading. He allowed himself to bend his neck, forced himself to ignore how open and vulnerable it was, his heart pounding in his chest so hard that she could surely feel it, and rested his head on her shoulder; his lips barely touching the nape of her neck, breathing in her sweet, earthy scent.

Fenris had no idea how long they stayed intertwined. Perhaps only minutes, but it felt like timeless hours, pure bliss as his aching and longing heart was soothed by Hawke's presence and warmth pressed against him. He hadn't realized his lips pressed against her neck, his body desperately trying to close any gaps between them. Her steady breathing lured him into a dream like stupor, for the first time as long as he could remember completely unaware of anything around him- only that she was there, and she was holding him.

Finally, Hawke stirred, and Fenris was pulled back to reality- but only just. She raised a hand to his cheek and brushed it, trailing her fingers along his jaw and holding him behind his ear, bending his face towards hers. She closed her eyes as she brought his forehead to hers, brushing his nose with hers, but Fenris could not take his eyes from her. His heart thudded away in his chest, threatening to burst through. She opened her eyes again to meet his, and as she tilted her head slightly and her gaze fell to his lips, Fenris felt his breath catch in his throat. His heart beat painfully fast, and he watched her, frozen, and she slowly leaned in closer… closer…. Even closer…

As though electrocuted, his body gave an involuntary jerk and he stood up from the table rapidly, almost knocking Hawke back. He grabbed her again, steadying her, but let go immediately as if burned. He took a step back right into the table and it scratched along the floor a few inches. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heart in his throat…. And then it dropped.

Hawke was staring at him, a mix of bewilderment and hurt slapped across her face.

"I…" started Fenris. He gulped. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…." He swallowed hard again, hoping it would unstopper the appropriate words. "I…" But he could not speak.

Hawke stood frozen for a few seconds, searching his eyes for answers that were not there. Then, so smoothly that Fenris almost wondered if he had imagined all of it, her expression became calm and stoic.

"It's fine," she said evenly, but there was a masked hardness in her voice that rang out to Fenris like a bell. She turned and walked away toward the door, sweeping up her weapons on her way.

"Hawke," Fenris said hoarsely, almost pleading, but he did not know what else to say.

Hawke stopped in the doorway, back toward Fenris, adjusting her knives on her back and pouches around her hips, silent. The crackling of fire and Hawke's tugging through of straps seemed deafening to Fenris. Then her voice cut through like an arrow in a haze.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you so far. I should have been more aware."

Then she drew herself up, appeared to take a deep breath, and before Fenris could argue that she had nothing to apologize for, she turned half way around.

"Aveline's asked me to do a patrol of the Wounded Coast tomorrow, in the afternoon. I'd like you to come with, if you want to."

Thrown off guard by this abrupt change in topic, Fenris could only answer, "Yes, of course."

Hawke nodded curtly, and with a blink of an eye, she was gone.

Fenris couldn't move. He felt stunned into silence and a numb thoughtless state until a flood of feeling returned to him. He swore, scrambled to get out of the room, and called "Hawke!" and ran out to the stairs.

But Hawke was gone.

Fenris fell back into the room, to the chair by the crackling fire, and sank into it, desperately rewinding what had happened, attempting to burn the feeling of Hawke's touch into his memory… but all he could see in front of him was Hawke's hurt, confused, pained expression. Fenris closed his eyes and shook his head, clutching at his hair, but the image would not disappear.

"Fenris, you fool," he whispered, "What have you done?"


	2. Pull

Fenris sat at the top of the staircase, looking down at his sword balanced on his knees without really seeing. He had paced about the mansion in a self loathing fury all night since Hawke left, smashing down every painting, every statue he could find, tearing down bookcases and destroying every bottle of Aggregio Danarius had left behind. Finally he had come to an exhaustive halt at the stairs and spent the remainder of the early morning staring at Hawke's hurt and confused face in his mind's eye. Light began to flow more strongly through the tall windows, and his glinting sword- one he had received from Hawke after they had returned from the Deep Roads- shone into his eyes, pulling him from thought. He looked out of the windows, hearing the chittering of birds and a slow, sleepy buzz of nobles greeting each other in the pale morning.

He could not bear to be in this mansion any longer. Securing his sword to his back and hoisting himself onto the ledge of the open window, he climbed out onto the roof, away from the eyes of well dressed, polished nobles. Fenris took a deep breath of the crisp, cool air and scanned the rooftops of Kirkwall's Hightown. The Chantry tower bell tolled the 7th hour of the morning, and Fenris set out, his nimble footsteps carrying him from one roof to the next, above the streets towards low town. He hadn't noticed that he had automatically stepped over to the Amell estate - now Hawke's- until he heard a familiar, deep barking at the closest window. He crouched low to reach the Mabari hound who was grunting happily at the sight of him, tongue hanging out the side of his muzzle in a most un-warhoundish fashion. Fenris chuckled and fished in a pouch for piece of dried meat.

"Hello, old boy," he murmured, climbing down to the ledge to give the now whining hound the strip of meat. The hound gave a cheerful bark, to which Fenris replied by closing his hand around the dog's muzzle, earning a confused whine and cock of the dog's head.

"Shhh!" Fenris glanced inside at the master bedroom. Hawke's knives were laid neatly on the bed, her bomb kit sprawled out on a work bench across the room. A collection of about 30 or 40 vials were clustered together on one end, ingredients scattered messily around them. Fenris absent mindedly scratched the dog's ears.

"Was she busying herself last night? I've never seen her make so many at a time…" But he was cut off by his keen ears picking up the sound of footsteps on the staircase inside. "Don't pay any attention to me, understand? She mustn't know I'm here," he whispered firmly to the hound. He gave a whine, but an acknowledging grunt.

Fenris swung up to the roof just as the bedroom door opened.

"What is it now, Theos, barking at the birds again?" Hawke's voice came drifting through the window. The hound gave a loud bark, and Hawke's voice came closer; she was at the window.

"I doubt Fenris is coming to give you your morning treat today, boy," she said, and Fenris's heart gave a leap at the sound of his name.

"I think…" her voice had dropped almost to a hoarse whisper, and Fenris leaned closer to the ledge to hear. "I think… I may have pushed him away, Theos." To his horror, he heard her voice waver, and the sound of Theos' whines and snuffles answered her. She gave a sigh.

"Well, we'll see if he comes to the Hanged Man. I asked if he wanted to come today, but I'm not sure if he will… Do you want to come along with me?" Fenris heard Theos's happy barks lead away from the window, a clink of vials, and the bedroom door shut. He walked down towards the front of the mansion, just out of sight in case Hawke should look up, and waited for her to come out.

Coward, he thought bitterly to himself. Hiding because you don't want to face her… what am I doing, following her in secret…

The heavy front doors creaked shut, and Fenris stood up, checking over the ledge. Hawke was walking towards the hightown market, Theos the mabari trotting proudly in front of her, a large straw basket in his mouth. He drew delighted giggles and squeals from children with their parents, who inclined their heads at Hawke politely as she passed, and she greeted them the same. Fenris followed silently, like a prowling cat, as she weaved through the streets and through the Dwarven Square. The size of Theos made a part in the crowd for her to follow easily, but the Market was already bustling with people. He watched as she stopped by the baker's stall to collect her daily basket of bread and sweets.

"Good day to you, serah Hawke! Here for your basket, I presume…?" the plump, good natured looking baker came forward and bowed low, obviously ecstatic that he had not lost his best paying customer over night. His son, a shy, lanky boy who Fenris guessed had just reached adulthood, was handing another noble her fruit pastries, but at the mention of Hawke's name had turned his head sharply, wincing at the sudden pain in his neck. Hawke pretended not to notice this as the boy's ears went slightly pink, and he hastily handed the pastry woman her change and hurried over, looking hopeful to assist.

"Good day to you as well, Ser Lamen, and yes," Hawke smiled warmly at the baker, handing him a couple of gold sovereigns. The baker bowed low again and pointed his son towards a large basket with a cloth draped over it.

"Ah, Kane," Hawke called to the boy, who practically skidded to a halt and shot back to her. She gave an amused laugh, and he turned bright red.

"Y-yes, Serah?" he stammered, regaining his balance.

"Theos has yesterday's basket to return," she explained, and the cheerful hound dropped his cargo onto the table. Kane nervously patted Theos on the head, gingerly lifted the basket, careful not to touch the thick slobber the mabari had left, and returned back with the newer one, placing it in front of Theos. He quickly glanced around at his father to make sure he was not looking, and quietly placed a meat pastry in front of the delighted hound, who gobbled the bread greedily. Kane gave a quick, nervous laugh while glancing at Hawke for approval, who grinned and mouthed, thank you. She reached out and grabbed Kane's hand - Fenris could not suppress a low growl- and pressed a few silver coins into it, giving him a wink and a meaningful look at the baker. Kane turned bright red, and at his father's return to the front table, he became suddenly very busy with something under the table. Fenris snorted in amusement.

"Now, your change, Serah-" the baker began, but Hawke shook her head, smiling. "Please, keep it. You do so much to prepare this for me every day, it is the least I can do." The baker bowed so low that his hat fell onto the table, and Hawke gave a sharp whistle to Theos, who picked up the new, full basket in his mouth and began trotting in front of her once more.

As they began to make their way down the steps toward Lowtown, however, Fenris saw a man follow them. Hawke was the only noble who would go down those steps, and this man did not look like a merchant. His dark clothes shadowed his face, and as his pace quickened, he reached for a knife at his side. Hawke did not seem to notice. Fenris swore under his breath and leapt forward, swinging down to the cobblestone street and rushing towards the man as he drew his weapon. The force of his charge sent the man slamming into the wall, his short sword clattering to the ground. Hawke whipped around, drawing her knives in a flash, ready to strike, but she paused her attack when she saw Fenris, pinning the man, who was already knocked unconscious, against the wall.

"Fenris!" she exclaimed, sheathing her knives as he let go of the man, who slid to the ground. Her expression of surprise quickly fell into a forced neutral one, and she lowered her eyes from him to the stranger he had attacked.

Fenris stepped over the man and looked down at him. He did not look like a mercenary… he was far too thin and underfed. "A pick pocket. He was following you out of the market and evidently thought he could cut the money from you." He pointed at the short sword that had fallen a few feet away. "You did not notice… Distracted?"

"A bit, at the moment," Hawke mumbled, coming closer to the slumped man. She dug a few silvers out of her pouch and tucked them into the man's shirt as Fenris watched. He was always in awe at her forgiveness and charity, especially when he did not think the recipients worthy.

Theos gave a muffled greeting through the handles of the basket, and nudged Fenris' leg with his body to show his appreciation of his arrival. Fenris patted his head.

"You aren't much use as a warhounds when you're making deliveries to refugees, are you?" he teased the dog.

"We're headed to Lirene's now," said Hawke, still refusing to meet his eye and instead watching Theos snuffle at Fenris's pocket.

"Hey!" Fenris pushed his muzzle away. "You've already had one today, don't you-"

"He has?" Fenris pursed his lips and cursed himself. He forced himself to look at Hawke. She did not look angry.

"You were following me all morning… you could say hello to my dog, but not to me, then?" Hawke was smirking a little, but Fenris knew what she was getting at.

He hesitated, then decided on the truth, taking a deep breath. "I… I did not know how to face you," he admitted, feeling ashamed. "I wasn't sure… I didn't mean to hurt you last night," he murmured the last words, angry at himself for being such a coward. She was looking at him steadily, and he had to fight hard not to break eye contact.

"I'm sorry. I have never allowed anyone so close before, and last night," he could hear the plea in his voice, needing her to understand that he didn't want to push her away, that he wanted...Her. "Last night, I ran ahead of myself. I wasn't thinking, and my body moved on its own… I didn't want to push you away. I didn't want you to leave. I…" he trailed off, looking desperately into Hawke's eyes, searching for some validation that she understood.

"Fenris," she said, softly, "I know."

He blinked. He had been prepared to fight more, to try and reason with her…

"I understand," she continued, "I was surprised when you pushed me away, but only because it was so sudden. Everything was so sudden. I was wrong to push you too far, I should have let you have more time. I'm sorry. You don't need to apologize at all, there's nothing to apologize for."

Fenris stared at her. She was smiling at him, her warm, inviting, comforting smile. She really understood. She meant it.

He nodded, unable to find any words. Cautiously, he stepped closer to her, and she reached out her hand, inviting him to take it, but leaving the choice for him. He didn't need a second thought. He grasped her hand and it pulled them a little closer, and slowly he put his head to hers, taking in her sweet, earthy scent, feeling the warmth of her hand in his.

"We can do this as slow as you like," she said softly to him, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. His heart threatened to beat faster against his chest, but somehow, Hawke's steady breathing was calming him down.

The pickpocket gave a sudden groan and Hawke jumped, remembering where they were. She looked back to Fenris and he chuckled at her shock, prompting her to laugh with him.

"Come on," she said, still holding his hand as she led him down the street towards Lowtown, "let's go before he wakes up."

Fenris would have followed her wherever she wanted. He felt light again, the gloom of the night had passed, and he could not help but smile as he tightened his fingers around hers and felt her return the pressure. They walked through the Bazaar, and at Lirene's door, he felt a twinge of desire and regret as she dropped his hand to take the basket from Theos.

Fenris opened the door to the Ferelden Imports office, and Hawke and Theos walked inside, Lirene calling out to them.

Fenris stood by the door as Hawke consulted with Lirene about the pastries she brought this morning for the refugees in need, and watched her as she began handing out the buns to the gathered families.

"Fenris," called Hawke, startling him, "come help me." It was more of a request than a suggestion, but all the same, Fenris obliged. He did not mind Hawke making requests of him; he knew that she would respect his decision if he did not want to do it.

Hawke handed him the basket of pastries to hold, and used both hands to remove the sticky things. After a few more, she whispered, "You can hand them out too," and nodded in the direction of several Ferelden children, looking at him hungrily, but curiously at his lyrium markings and pointed ears. His appearance usually scared children and their parents, and he was hesitant at the sight of the nervous Ferelden adults eyeing him warily, but at an encouraging smile from Hawke, he handed a cake dripping with honey to a small girl closest to him. She took it with both hands, wide eyed, and took a bite on the spot. Fenris watched her as she chewed with her eyes closed, savoring the honey. The girl swallowed and looked up, honey dripping from her chin, crumbs stuck to her cheeks, and grinned; and with a smile that showed off her missing teeth, she chirped, "Thank you, Ser Elf!" and weaved her way back to her mother, showing her proudly the cake he had given. The mother stroked her daughter's hair and smiled, and looked up to Fenris. He braced himself for a glare and expected her to usher her child away, but the mother did no such thing. She smiled gratefully, gave a small bow, and her child led her out of the store, a bounce in her step as she licked the sticky syrup off her hands. Fenris watched the door even after it shut behind them, an indescribable feeling brewing inside him.

He felt a soft touch on his forearm and looked around to meet Hawke's beaming face, and he smiled back at her. He felt as though he was being inflated by something- the same urge that had driven him to pull her close last night. His mind flashed to the image of her, eyes fallen to his lips, coming closer… he felt a pulse and a shiver run through him and the crowd around them gasped and exclaimed, stepping back. Mutters erupted around the room, and all eyes were on Fenris and his lyrium markings, which had, only for an instant, glowed brilliantly blue. The sound of them brought him back into awareness of where he was, and he felt a pang of panic, which Hawke could see in his eyes. She took his hand in the crowd and wove her finger with his, and smiled at the room at large.

"Not to worry. Fenris isn't dangerous. Please, if you haven't received some bread, step forward, the basket is nearly empty."

The murmurs continued, but Hawke ignored them, smiling and greeting everyone jovially as she handed out the cakes with her spare hand, still holding Fenris's hand as he held out the basket with his other. His feeling of panic had almost disappeared when she touched him, and he concentrated on her fingers between his.

The basket emptied, they left the store, Hawke calling "I'll be back with more tomorrow, Lirene," as she shut the door behind them, still holding onto Fenris. She led them to an empty alleyway off the Bazaar, where Theos stood watch. She stood in front of him, body almost touching his between the narrow walls.

"Are you alright?" she asked in a low voice, concern etched across her face.

Fenris nodded, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. She smiled coaxingly. "I saw the little girl. She seemed really happy. Her mother, too." Fenris nodded again, but had no words to say to this. Hawke's smile faltered a little.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, biting her lip. "I pushed too fast again, didn't I?"

Fenris could no longer hold back. He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes and listening to his heart rate return to normal. He was so aware of every part of her. Her breathing, her pulse, her hands on his chest, her head leaning against his…

"You didn't," he said at last, not lifting his head. "I just lost control… the girl… I've never…" he sighed, hugging her tightly. "I was happy." He whispered into her neck, and he felt her shiver, but wrap her arms around his neck to hold him close. They stood there for a minute, and he could think of nothing but how badly he wanted to stay like this forever… even more...

Fenris lifted his head from her shoulder and raised his hand to caress her cheek. She watched him, but didn't move. Patient, giving him the choice…

He leaned in slowly, aware that he was trembling slightly- in excitement or fear he could not tell. Perhaps both. She closed her eyes, and he licked his lips, nervous. Their noses touched now, and Fenris was holding his breath again. He could feel her breath on his lips, feel her warmth as he hovered just millimeters away…

Then, he couldn't tell if he fell into her, or if she had been the one to close the space between them. Fenris met her soft lips, and his eyes fluttered shut. She pressed gently into him, arms around his neck to hold him there, their weight pressing him against the wall. She let out a soft breath to remind him to do the same, and as he did, he melted into her. Burying his hand in her hair to pull her deeper into the kiss, he mimicked her movements- slow, and he was clumsy at first, but then he began to follow. Her hands tangled in his hair, she kissed him slowly, and he felt as though she were telling him something- something beyond words. He answered back in the same language, pressing his lips into hers harder, accidentally tugging her hair in his earnest. He expected her to pull away, but instead she pressed harder- he felt her tongue flick at his lips and a low, growling moan escaped through them, giving her just the little opening she needed.

Maker... He shivered slightly as she slipped her tongue between his lips, and allowed her to find his. Their tongues danced together, flicking around each other and Hawke gave a soft moan into him. He felt a surge through his body, even through their closed eyes they knew that his skin had flared brightly. Fenris gasped and moaned, "Hawke…"

They broke apart, slightly out of breath, staring into each other. Fenris could not let go of her, and his arms remained tightly wrapped around her waist. Hawke's mouth was twitching into a smile. She seemed like she was about to say something, but just then, they heard a familiar voice above the buzz of the market.

"Theos, what are you doing there?" Anders called, and Theos jumped to his feet, barking his greeting.

"Must he always be so infuriating?" Fenris muttered, and Hawke laughed.

Hawke pulled hastily away from Fenris and straightened herself up, combing her fingers through her hair, smiling sheepishly at Fenris. He watched her, amused but with a deep annoyance toward the Mage, who had appeared at the entrance of the alley, frowning. Fenris fixed his smile, reserved for Hawke, and tried to scowl back, but found that he was too elated to do so. His expression must have been even more annoying to Anders than his usual scowl, because he was now positively glaring at Fenris.

"What are you two doing in here?" he demanded, still glaring at Fenris, who was pointedly smoothing his hair and straightening his armor, even though Hawke hadn't at all left him disheveled.

Wouldn't you like to know, thought Fenris, and he almost laughed. He was happy, despite the interruption; an emotion he had never felt before. He felt almost giddy, and knowing that he had thoroughly pissed off the mage was threatening to send him into a fit of laughter.

Hawke looked at him curiously, trying to read his blank expression- did he look a little smug? Anders looked back and forth between the two of them, then said gruffly, "Come on, we shouldn't keep Varric waiting." and pushed roughly passed Fenris, bumping him into the wall. Any other day, Fenris would have voiced a threat over this, but he simply dusted off his front loudly at Anders and followed him and Hawke through the alley to the Hanged Man.


	3. The Holding Caves

_AN: Sorry this one is so late! I'm a uni senior so thesis season has been insane. Writing this was a really nice break though. I decided to write the first parts with more of Hawke's perspective because I feel like she's been super boring for the first chapters. Then back to Fenris though. Thanks for your reviews and follows so far! :) This is the chapter for_ A Bitter Pill _, I've skipped some parts or edited the dialogue because I didn't want to bore you guys (or myself) with action we've all been through._

The hanged man was quieter than usual, being only early morning, though the barmaid could be heard attempting to rouse some of the drunken patrons from the fireside. Anders stomped across the room, Theos trotting in carefree contrast at his side, to where Aveline sat with Varric, her armor glinting in the sunlight filtering in through the tall windows.

Isabella was collapsed in a heap on the other end of the long table, fist clasped around a wooden tankard, drooling slightly on the cards scattered between her and her snoring opponent, the sandy haired poet Hawke had warded off so many nights in Isabella's defence. Hawke couldn't help but laugh as she noticed the pair of trousers Isabella had draped across her knees seemed to belong to him- knowing the cunning pirate, she had probably challenged him to a game of strip poker rather than listen to his bizarre prose. Isabella was, as usual, fully dressed and hadn't seemed to have lost even a single earring, whereas the poor poet had not only lost his trousers, but his boots, which were placed in victory by Isabella's elbow, a parchment journal ( _Your Timeless Beauty Although Some Call You An Aged Hag: The woes of a young poet)_ , and what appeared to be a corset upon which several empty tankards had been piled. Aveline was shooting disapproving glances at this scene as she talked to Varric, who was observing the drunken couple with amused interest.

Anders sat down beside Varric, blocking his view from Isabella, but rather than looking put out, Varric grinned even wider and raised his eyebrows.

"Well, Blondie, I'd say good morning but it looks like you're having the opposite of one. Did the cat in lowtown reject your dried fish again or something?"

Anders didn't reply, but continued to glower at Fenris, who had sat down directly across from him. Fenris did not look at Anders, but Hawke saw a the shadow of a smirk flickering on his face. Hawke shook her head, trying not to laugh. Fenris really could be such a… a brat, sometimes.

Hawke took the empty space between Aveline and Fenris, darkening Anders' expression even further. Ignoring this, she exchanged greetings with Aveline and Varric, who was looking between her, Anders, and Fenris with such an expression of mischievous glee that she wanted to push him out of the bench.

"So, Aveline, what's the job?" Hawke forced the conversation along to business, cutting across Varric before he could speak. He closed his mouth, still grinning, and shrugged.

"Right," Aveline smoothed out a bit of parchment on the table in front of Hawke. There were a few illustrations of plants, with notes on coloring and texture. "There's an illness going around my guardsmen, and the medicine we have isn't working fast enough. I have about eleven of them down now, and I can't afford to have anymore fall out of duty with so many gangs targeting the streets at night. The apothecary needs these plants to brew a stronger potion, but they don't have any in stock and their usual collector is off gathering herbs in Ferelden and won't be back for another two weeks. I don't have the time to go to Sundermount, and I can't have my men just wandering through the Dalish camp. I need you to gather these for me as soon as possible, Hawke, if you can do it. There's reward in it for you, as well, of course."

Hawke nodded, rolling up the parchment and tucking it under her vest in her breast pocket. "We'll head there now. I need to go to the area to pick some things for Solivitus anyway. I'll come to you as soon as I'm back."

Aveline smiled and stood from the table, gripping Hawke's shoulder appreciatively. "Thank you, Hawke. I know I said I wouldn't make a habit of having you run errands… I really am grateful for this."

Hawke shook her head. "No need to apologize. You know you can come to me for anything."

 _.:The Wounded Coast:._

Hawke and Theos walked ahead as usual, and she tried to ignore the bickering of Anders and Fenris behind her, hearing Varric goading them on. _Damn dwarf…_ but she smiled despite herself. She loved Varric; he always made her laugh and was helpful in providing a neutral opinion among so many of her intense friends. He was her first friend in Kirkwall, besides Aveline, and she respected his ability as an archer greatly, so he was usually a first pick in accompanying her on errands. His habit of toying with the others to provoke reactions however… _Such a younger brother_ , she thought, shaking her head, and she thought sadly for a moment of Carver.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a sharp voice, not one that she knew, ring out from the barren cliffs.

"Halt!"

Instinctively, her hands went to her throwing knife at her waist, and one in her pouch of miasmic flasks.

A robed mage stood on the cliff above them, flanked by men in dark clothes, their faces covered but for their eyes, weapons drawn. The embossed crest of Tevinter glinted on their chests in the sunlight.

 _Slave hunters_ , Hawke thought, her heart rate increasing, and she gripped a flask in her pouch, her other hand moving up to draw her blade from her back.

Fenris appeared at her side, blade already drawn, lyrium markings flashing menacingly. "Hunters," he growled, readying his sword. Theos bared his teeth and growled at the mage.

"Stop right there," the mage called out at Hawke, "You are in the possession of stolen property. Back away from the slave now, and you'll be spared!"

Anger began to bubble in Hawke. _One after another…_ Her thoughts flashed back to the image of Fenris' pained expression when he had told her of Danarius' enslavement before. "Fenris is a free man!" she yelled back, unable to control herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fenris' markings flash stronger.

"I won't repeat myself," the hunter replied, "Back away from the slave now!"

"I am not a slave!" Fenris gave a roar and leapt up the cliff and charged through the hunters, Theos barking and biting those he had missed. A group of them had appeared around the corner of the cliff, and Varric rained a hail of arrows among them, striking them down.

Hawke danced through the hunters, whipping her blades through them, felling them one by one. Blood showered the sands, a scene fitting of the coast line's moniker.

Hawke sheathed her daggers as she walked toward the mage, barely conscious, as Fenris stooped over him, hand gripped around his throat.

"Where is he?" Fenris slammed the mage back against the cliff, smacking his head on the rock.

"Please…" the hunter begged, but Fenris paid no attention. Striking him again, Fenris demanded, "Tell me, now!"

"I-I don't know…" gasped the hunter, blood trickling down from his hair, "Hadriana… she-she brought us… she's at the holding caves… north of the city…" he gagged as Fenris' grip tightened around his windpipe, his eyes growing wide with desperation, "I-I could show you the way-"

"No need," growled Fenris, and with one hand, he crushed the man's throat. Anders made a small gagging as the man's body went limp against the rock.

Fenris stood slowly. "Hadriana…" his voice dripped with such hatred that Theos pressed against Hawke's legs protectively.

"Someone you know?" Hawke asked. He nodded curtly, staring with disgust at the strewn bodies of the hunters on the sand.

"A servant… a snivelling social climber that would sell her own children if she thought it would please Danarius. If she is here, it is at his bidding. I knew he wouldn't let this go!" He slammed his fist against the rocks. "I was a fool to think I was free!"

"Fenris," Hawke said urgently, "this needs to be stopped before it goes any further."

He nodded, looking back up to meet her gaze. "I know these holding caves. We must go immediately, before Hadriana has the chance to prepare.. Or flee."

"Then let's not waste any more time," Varric said, pocketing the last of the coin he had been busy looting from the corpses.

 _.:The Holding Caves:._

Theos whined gratefully as Hawke poured some of her healing potion down his throat. She scratched him behind his ears affectionately and wiped some of the sweat and blood off her own brow before standing up. The hallway behind them was littered with skeletons and corpses that had been summoned with blood magic, and the light from the fires glinted on the pools of blood on the floor and their weapons. Hawke shook her blades to flick off some of the blood.

"Ready?" Fenris asked, and she nodded.

"Up we go then," Varric grunted as he stood up, leaving the empty potion bottle on the floor.

Everyone shone with sweat. The holding caves were lit with fires, and the hallways were stiflingly hot. Fighting in this heat took a lot of energy, and they had had to rest before moving on.

Weapons drawn, they rounded the next corner, Hawke drawing a deep breath in preparation for the next attack. They entered a large room, where a frail elvhen girl was backing into a corner away from hunters. Seeing Hawke, she cried out "Please, help me!"

The slavers barely had time to turn before Fenris had charged through them, striking them down. Varric shot the remainders with a few choice arrows, and once they had fallen, Anders released the protective barrier he had enclosed the girl into. Hawke helped her to her feet gently, wiping the hunters' blood from her cheek.

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking into her face. The girl looked shaken, eyes wide and her lips trembling.

"Are you hurt? Did they touch you?" concern carved into his face, Fenris looked down at the young elf.

"They- They've been killing _everyone_ … They cut Papa… they bled him. We tried to be good… the magister said she liked papa's soup. I don't understand…" She looked imploringly at Fenris, but he did not answer. Hawke knew he did not know what to say.

"This has been terrible for you," she said, and the girl turned to her again.

"Everything was fine until today!" she cried.

"It wasn't." The girl looked at Fenris, confused. "You just didn't know any better," he told her, his voice hoarse.

"Are you my master now?" she asked, hopeful for some direction.

Fenris's eyes went wide with rage, and, Hawke was somehow surprised; he suddenly looked sympathetic, and desperate for something to tell her. She had never seen him look so at a loss before- but she suddenly remembered his bewildered, pained expression a couple of nights ago.

"But I can cook… I can clean. What else will I do?" Fenris opened his mouth to reply to the girl, but could not think of anything to say.

"If you go to Kirkwall, I can help you," Hawke stepped in. She wanted to help the girl, and she knew if she let her go now she would worry about her forever. And looking at Fenris, she knew he would worry too. "Take this," she untied the scarf around her waist that had the Amell crest embroidered onto the corner. "You'll be able to find your way to my estate. Tell Bodhan I sent you."

Some color returned the girl's pale face, and she took the scarf. "Oh, thank you serah. I will go now, I will find the estate!" and with a last fearful look at the fallen hunters, she darted past them and out of sight.

"I didn't know you were in the market for a slave," Fenris spat, his eyes blazing as he rounded on Hawke. Theos growled a warning and stepped between them, barring his way to her.

Hawke felt a pang of hurt as she met eyes with Fenris, who looked furious, accusing, and disgusted with her. His lyrium markings began to glow with anger. "I gave her a job, Fenris," she said quietly, almost begging for him to understand. "I'm going to pay her. She is not a slave anymore."

Fenris took in her words, understanding dawning in his face, and his skin returning to normal. He felt ashamed, suddenly, as a wave of relief hit him. Of course- this is Hawke. She would never own slaves- he was a fool for doubting her. He looked down at Theos, who growled again as their eyes met. Fenris offered his hand in peace, and gently scruffed the hound's muzzle. "That's… good. I'm sorry." The mabari grunted, and Hawke nodded.

"We should keep moving," he said, unable to meet her eyes, and he lead the way through the open door.

 _.:Hadriana:._

"Please!" Hadriana begged Hawke, her arms outstretched to ward off Fenris, "tell him to stop!"

Hawke refused to look at her, and instead met Fenris's gaze. "This is your call."

He nodded, and the room was illuminated by a flash a blue. When Hawke opened her eyes once more, Hadriana was dead, lying in a growing pool of her blood, her eyes wide but seeing nothing.

"We are done here," Fenris said gruffly, and started to make his way to the exit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hawke could not stop herself, even though she knew she shouldn't.

"No, I don't want to talk about it!" Fenris exploded, turning around to face her. "For all we know she could be lying! This could be a trap! Danarius could have sent her here to tell me about this _sister_ ," he spat the word like it was poison, "and even if he didn't, trying to find her would still be suicide! Danarius has to know about her and has to know that Hadriana knows. But all that matters is that I finally got to crush this bitch's heart. May she rot, and all the other mages with her." He turned away again, and Hawke fought back an urge to embrace him. She could almost feel his pain just looking at him, and she looked ruefully at his stiff shoulders and clenched fists, remembering remorsefully how relaxed he had been just this morning in the Lowtown alley.

Anders made a noise of protest, but doubled over from a thud to the gut by Varric.

Hawke stepped gingerly toward him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we should leave.." she started, but he shoved her off aggressively.

"Do not comfort me!" he turned to face her again, taking a step toward her so that their faces were inches apart. "You saw what was done here! There is always going to be some reason, some excuse why mages have to do this! Do you not see it?" his voice was rising, but he could no longer control himself. Theos began barking and growling, baring his teeth, but Fenris ignored him. "Even after this you would defend mages! You are a fool to believe they will be anything more than dangerous murderers. And even if I did find my sister," he raised his voice louder still to prevent her from retorting as she opened her mouth to speak, "who knows what the mages have done to her. What has magic touched that it doesn't spoil?" He glared at her, daring her to respond, almost wishing that she would yell back at him so that he could continue, but she said nothing. She simply held his gaze with clear eyes that he could detect no anger in, no judgement- only acknowledgment of his own fury. He glanced at Theos, surprised that he hadn't attacked by now, and saw the Hawke had her hand out, in silent command to make the war hound stay back. She was protecting him. Yet again, she was protecting him, even though this time he was the attacker, and she the victim. Her other hand hung by her side, open, empty, not even reaching for any of her weapons. He felt the fire that was lit by anger and agony of past memories suddenly die, and he felt numb, limp. His eyes fluttered shut for an instant as he swayed slightly, and when he opened them he looked right into Hawke's eyes- filled with worry. He could not bear to be near her any longer; could not bear the shame he suddenly felt at taking his anger out on her. He turned, wiping the sweat off his brow, and walked away.

"I need to go," he muttered, and before he could hear her reply, he ran out of the room, out of the caves, and stumbled into the cool air of the Wounded Coast, running blindly away. He didn't know where he was going, he didn't care. He didn't know what he was feeling, his head was spinning and he felt like he would be sick. He bent over, clutching at the rock wall, and felt his eyes water as he gagged and vomited. His hand slipped, gashing his palm against the sharp rock, and coughing, he ran, his heart thudding painfully in his chest, the pain his his temple so great that it was squeezing his eyes shut. His legs carried his automatically, and he crashed through bushes and foliage, clutching his hair at the pain. Suddenly his feet plunged into something ice cold, wet, and his toes sunk into the ground. He forced his eyes open. He had run all the way down to a cove, and he was standing in the water, waves lapping at his ankles. The lights of Kirkwall glittered on the opposite coast, and the last light of the set sun stretched desperately across the darkening skies.

Fenris swayed and keeled over onto the sand by the gentle waves at his feet.

The cool sand felt comforting on his neck, and his sweat cooled and dried from the sea breeze. The first of the stars began to shine, and Fenris closed his eyes and let himself give in to his exhaustion. He felt himself slip away, as though he were sinking into the beach, a fog clouding his mind as he fell into darkness.

 _.:Looking for Fenris:._

' _Leto!' A girl's voice… bread, the smell of cotton dye... A soft light, where the voice was coming from._

' _Leto.' A man. Smooth, deep, charming… dark rooms and cold floors... 'I think 'Fenris' is quite suitable for you, hmm? My little wolf, Fenris. Yes, I do think it's quite, ah, fetching…'_

' _Fenris.' A woman… warm, calming… the smell of leather and Ferelden soap… heart lifting, indescribable feeling of happiness… he was safe now…_

' _Fenris!'_

He could feel the chill wind biting at his face again, and his eyes fluttered open, the stars greeting him as he woke. The waves were still lapping at his feet, and he was stiff from the cold, but his head was no longer spinning nor in pain, and he could fully open his eyes. His mouth was dry and he swallowed, grimacing at the aftertaste of his vomit. He tried to remember where he was without sitting up- he thought he had heard Hawke's voice in his dream… he could remember the smell of her leather vest and the Ferelden soap she used that he had smelled in his dream, but even that was slipping away. He closed his eyes again and tried to remember, but the dream was gone. Where was he?

 _Hadriana_. He opened his eyes and sat up quickly. _Right, I killed her… We found her, she's dead now… and then Hawke…_ Her worried eyes flashed before his eyes and he rubbed them, as if to wipe her away. _I ran away from her. Then I collapsed here…_

"Fenris!"

His ears perked and he jumped at the sound of his name. The dream again?

"Fenris!"

No, this was not a dream. He was awake, and there was a voice calling for him- Hawke's voice. She sounded distant, but he could hear people walking through plants not too far away.

"C'mon, Hawke, he's not here. He probably needed some time alone after what happened." _Varric._

"I don't want him to be alone, Varric, he's spent his life alone, I want to help-"

"Hawke, sometimes he needs to be alone because that's what he knows." Varric's voice cut across Hawke. "He'll come by when he's ready, I doubt he'd leave you."

Silence.

Varric spoke again, this time sounding almost uncharacteristically gentle. "Come on, Hawke. It's late. You need to eat something, you look like you're about to collapse. Blondie's probably done making more potions at the clinic by now, and you should take some. Come on now." A pause, and then Fenris heard them walking away.

She was looking for him. Fenris felt guilty, but he could not face her as he was now. He was exasperated with himself for taking out his anger on her- what had she done to deserve it? She had done nothing but protect him since they had first met, and had continued to do so even while he was shouting at her.

Fenris laid back onto the sand again, and closed his eyes. He would go back soon. When he was ready, as Varric had said. He felt suddenly grateful for the dwarf; he was glad he didn't have to face Hawke now. He felt the waves lap at his feet and took a deep breath of the salty air, and slowly succumbed to sleep once more- sleep filled with the sensation of gentle caress on his neck, warmth on his lips, and the rhythm of two heart beats in sync.


	4. Return

Fenris took a deep breath to prepare himself for the 97th time this night as he gazed across the rooftops of Kirkwall. _The Amells must have been a powerful family_ , he thought. The only roofs higher than Hawke's estate was the Viscount's castle and the Chantry towers. Fenris shuddered, but not from the wind. He had been sitting on Hawke's roof for four nights in a row now, trying to convince himself to climb down through her window (his usual entrance, with her permission of course- He didn't like the cold stares he got from the noble families when he used the front door, and she had invited him to use her bedroom window, which was out of sight from any wandering eyes) to apologize for his behavior five nights ago. Every night he had waited until she had gone to bed, and he told himself that he shouldn't wake her up. Every morning he had been still too ashamed to face her, and during the afternoon he refused to appear before her in front of the others. _I'll look like a coward if I reappear in front of everyone, as if I can't face her alone._ He stubbornly pushed away the little voice in his ear that reminded him, _You_ can't _face her alone. It's been five nights now, and you still can't do it._

How many foes and challenges had he faced on his own? He had escaped hunters, fought giant poisonous spiders, defeated a _dragon,_ for the love of Andraste, and yet he could not muster the courage to place himself in front of this woman.

"A formidable woman," he muttered bitterly for the 378th time in four nights. "A woman who has expert knowledge of tearing down her opponents with an arsenal of blades and hand grenades and who knows what else…" He was not confident he could win a fair fight against her.

The window below him creaked open and a light shone from the room, and Fenris scrambled quietly to the edge of the roof, heart pounding. _This time…_

"Thank you for the soup, Orana, it was really lovely," he heard Hawke calling. _Orana?_ Fenris had never heard the name before.

"I will bring some hot towels for your feet, my lady, I'm sure you had a very hard day," a young girl replied, and Fenris could picture the scared elvhen girl they had rescued in the Holding Caves. So she had found Hawke's home.

"There's no need, Orana, really," Hawke said, and Fenris could hear her smile. "Here," He heard the clink of coin and Orana stammering. "You deserve this," he heard Hawke say, her voice firm, "You aren't a slave anymore, you're getting paid now. And let me know whenever you'd like some time off"-Orana gave a squeak of surprise- "Yes, you get time off whenever you need. And I'll make sure of it, even if you don't let me know."

Fenris listened to the stammering thanks of Orana and Hawke closing her bedroom door and felt his inside swell with… he wasn't sure. Gratitude? Yes, but this felt different. He felt the same sensation that he had had when she had kissed him in the Lowtown alley… the simultaneous feeling of being about to burst while melting. He needed to see her, he needed to talk to her, to have her talk to him, look at him, touch him…

Fenris threw himself off the edge of the roof and swung gracefully through the window.

"Hawke-"

A poison flask narrowly missed his face as he turned to face the source, and he heard it crash among the roof tiles below. He stared blankly, thrown off and confused.

Hawke was standing still on the other end of the room, a tar bomb in one hand, arm raised and ready to throw, and in the other, a pair of her armored leggings. She looked stunned, eyes wide and her mouth gaping open. Fenris stared at this bizarre sight, and as soon as he wondered why she was trying to attack him with a pair of pants, he understood. He had walked in on her undressing.

"I- Hawke-" he stammered and backed into the wall, feeling his face flush and his markings glowing faintly.

It was as though someone had made time move again. Hawke blinked, and her expression turned from surprise to relief to rage, and she dropped the armor and the tar bomb, which rolled along the rug under her work table.

"Hawke, forgive me, I-"

"AAAUUGHH!" Hawke gave a roar, and before Fenris fully saw what was happening, she had launched herself across her room, picking up random items as she went.

Fenris dodged something large and round. He looked back at the object. It was a pillow. _What-_

 _WOOMPH._

Something soft hit him in square in the face, and with such force that he was knocked back a few steps. He looked up, starting to panic in his confusion, and saw Hawke in all her bare legged rage, leaping off her bed and throwing her cushions at him. He dodged them again, his hands in front of him, and she began picking up other objects to throw.

"FIVE DAYS!"

Fenris caught a glass vial with blue sand and hurriedly put in on the floor behind him-

"YOU DISAPPEARED-"

A silver herb knife whizzed past his ear and stabbed into the wall-

"DIDN'T KNOW WHERE YOU HAD GONE-"

He swatted a mabari collar away from his face-

"SO _WORRIED_ ABOUT YOU-"

He caught a miasmic flask inches away from hitting the ground-

"I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT'VE GOTTEN CAUGHT AGAIN, I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT'VE LEFT ME, I THOUGHT YOU WENT TO GO HUNT DANARIUS ON YOUR OWN-"

Three books flew past him and thudded against the wall behind him.

"YOU…. _YOU…"_

Hawke was looking around, panting, face flushed in marvelous contrast against her tattoos, desperate for something else to throw at him. Fenris took his chance while she was distracted and charged at her, wrapping his arms around her waist and tackling her onto the bed.

"FENRIS-" she roared again, "LET- ME- GO-" she hammered on his back, but he refused.

"No," he said, his voice muffled by the blankets. He lifted himself slightly to free his nose and mouth and looked down at her, grabbing her wrists and holding them to his chest with one hand so she couldn't hit him, supporting himself above her with his other arm.

"Not unless you listen- you don't need to accept my apology!" he added quickly at the look on her face, "Just… listen. Please." He looked at her desperately, and she stared back at him, still breathing heavily from yelling.

There was a sharp rap on the door, and they heard her mother's worried voice. "Faelan? Faelan, are you in there? Is everything alright, dear?"

Hawke didn't take her eyes off of Fenris as she replied, calming her voice, "Yes, mother, don't worry. Fenris is here, he just surprised me."

They heard her laugh. "Ah, I see. Hello, Fenris. I'm glad to hear you're back, you did worry her you know."

Fenris smiled weakly at Hawke, who glared at him. "Yes, I'm aware. Thank you, serah."

They listened to her move away and close her own chamber door, and stared at each other in silence.

"Well?" Hawke shot at him.

"Er…" he blinked, and he looked down at her as though seeing her for the first time again. He had never seen her so indignant, she had never lifted a finger at him, and it had scared him into silence for a moment. But now he looked at her, glaring at him from beneath him, in nothing but her undershirt and shorts, and he had to suppress a grin. He had never seen her de-armored before, and now he found it comical that she had tried to attack him with pillows and books rather than her usual weapons, which were lying at a safe distance away on her work table. Even so, he kept a firm grip on her wrists. He knew she didn't have to have any weapons in order to do significant damage to someone if she wanted to.

"I'm sorry," he continued, "I just…" he trailed off. Maker, she really was so beautiful. He could barely remember why he hadn't come to her before; just seeing her, feeling her in front of him made him so happy. "Er… Would you like to put on something else…?" He nodded at her bare legs.

She raised her eyebrows at him in a "just shut up about that and get on with it" sort of way, so he went on. "I became too overwhelmed. I took my anger out on you, and you have done nothing at all to deserve it. I left because I needed to be alone. When I was a slave…" he lowered his gaze and spoke to her hands, unable to look at her eyes. "Hadriana was a torment. She would ridicule me. Deny my meals. Hound my sleep… Because of her status, I was powerless to respond- and she knew it. The thought of her slipping out of my grasp now… I couldn't let her go. I wanted to," he added, speaking honestly of the thoughts that had consumed his mind over the past few days, "But I couldn't."

"What do you mean?" Hawke wasn't yelling at him anymore. She wasn't glaring, either. She just lay there, waiting for him to speak. Fenris breathed a sigh a relief, and continued.

"This… _hate_ ," he murmured, "I thought I had gotten away from it. But it dogs me no matter where I go. To feel it again- to know it was they who planted it inside me- it was too much to bear. It made me sick, I had to leave. I felt ashamed that I had taken my hatred out on you, when you're the last person who deserves such a thing. " He fell quiet again, watching her hands in his. He loosened his grip. She could do whatever she wanted to him now. He didn't expect her to accept his apology.

Hawke wiggled her hands out of his grip, and Fenris let his hand fall to the bed. _She doesn't want to touch me_ , he thought, _She doesn't want to be with me any longer._ He made a movement to get up and leave, but before he could, he felt a warm touch on his face. Fenris held his breath as she stroked his cheek gently, brushing away the silver hair from his eyes. He watched her eyes trail along his lyrium markings on his face and neck, leaning slightly into her hand. She rose her gaze back to his eyes and he held it, searching desperately for forgiveness, and she gave it to him wordlessly. He let out his breath slowly, feeling a weight lift somewhere inside of him.

"I didn't come here to burden you further," he sighed, lifting himself from the bed and crossing her room to the window. "I will go now, and let you have your sleep."

Hawke reached him as he placed his hand on the window sill, and took his hand, pulling him around again. "It isn't a burden," she said, "We're _friends_ , Fenris." She seemed to waver on the word, and when their eyes met they could tell they were both thinking of their shared kiss.

He smiled and squeezed her hands gently, touching his forehead to hers. Then he let known a fear that he had had for a long time. "I'm not certain I know what that is," he whispered, released her hand, and disappeared again out of her window.

.: _Friends:._

The rest of the week passed with nothing unusual… besides Fenris's return and undeniable good mood, which was noticed by all.

"What's up with you, elf? You're not so broody since you came back. You're more… a dark gray. A very dark gray, rather than pitch black and stone cold." Varric poked.

It seemed that everyone was attributing his good mood to the death of Hadriana, which was only partly true. He had asked Aveline to relay any information pertaining his "sister", but as there had been no results thus far, Fenris was free to simply enjoy his time with Hawke after what seemed like an eternity without her.

He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace in his mansion, waiting. Hawke said that she would come over after she had dropped her loot from today's outings at her home, and that they would practice reading again. As soon as he dropped into an armchair by the fire, he remembered, _candles_ , and stalked off to collect candles from the different rooms. He was setting them up around the open book on the table for ample lighting when he heard the front door creak open.

"Fenris?" Hawke's voice called out from the entrance hall.

He went to the top of the stairs and waited for Hawke to reach him, and lead them into the room.

An hour and a half later, she was blowing out the candles and shutting the book, Fenris rubbing his eyes, sore from concentrating so hard on the small text.

"Good job!" she told him, smiling. He nodded appreciatively, watching her curl up in her usual place by the fire, warming her hands.

"Wait here," he said, and he left the room to Danarius's cellar, where he pulled the last bottle of Agregio wine. He returned to find her in the same place, looking at him with curiosity. He showed the bottle to her.

"The last bottle of the Agregio," he explained, opening it. "I've been saving it for a special occasion."

"And what's that?" she asked, smiling.

"The anniversary of my escape," he said, taking a swig of the dark red wine before passing it to her. "Care to hear the story?" he asked, giving her a small smile.

She smiled as she drank from the bottle. "I enjoy listening to you talk," she said playfully, passing the bottle back to him.

He met her eyes and let her words sink into him. "There are few pleasures greater than speaking with a beautiful woman." She grinned, her eyes flashing at him in the fire light.

Fenris began to tell his story, with Hawke asking questions here and there, encouraging him to speak. Perhaps it was the wine, but Fenris felt at ease with her, willingly telling her with all honesty about his past- including his first escape from Danarius, which he had long kept harbored due to his pain and shame of the fates of the Fog Warriors. But Hawke did not reprimand him, she just listened, with not a sign of disgust or judgement. When he had finished his story, the bottle was almost empty. There was a moment of silence, then,

"This can't be easy to talk about," Hawke said softly.

Fenris finished the wine in one swig. "I've never talked about my past with anyone…" then he added truthfully, "never wanted to. Perhaps," he whispered, "this is what it means to have a friend."

Hawke held his gaze, sending a shiver up his spine. "It may mean more than that," she pressed.

"I.. have never thought I needed anyone… or wanted, even. Because of my markings, it can be painful when people touch me carelessly… But you are unlike any woman I have ever met. With you, it might be different." His words caught in his throat as she got up and stepped forward to stand in front of him. His hands trembling slightly, he trailed his hands up the back of her thighs slowly, afraid that she would push him away. She rested her arms on his shoulders and leaned forward, one knee on the seat between his, and came closer until their noses touched. His hands travelled up to her back, and he pulled her into him by her hips, tilting his head so that their lips slid together like perfect pieces of a puzzle. He tasted her sweet lips, savoring them as though he would never taste them again, feeling her fingers tangled through his hair. Their lips moved together naturally, parting to let their tongues wrap together into intricate bows. Hawke's soft moans guided him on, and Fenris pressed their bodies together, letting go his hesitations from his wants and his needs, ignoring the light sting of his markings and he rubbed against her clothes. Hawke pressed him against the back of the armchair, one hand trailing down his front slowly, until she reached the edge of his vest. She laid a hand on the hard raise in his trousers and he gasped at the touch, illuminating the room in such a brilliant flash that she pulled her hand away to shield her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, holding her so she wouldn't fall back. Hawke chuckled and shook her head.

"You don't have to be," she said, kissing him gently. "I think I pushed a bit much again."

She sat back on her knee, her arms still around his neck. He was breathing harder than usual.

"I think we should stop there for tonight," she said soothingly, stroking his hair.

"I'm fine," he replied quickly, "I just didn't expect it." He didn't want her to leave.

She smiled. "No, Fenris, I don't want to push you. I want you to take it further, when you feel really ready."

"...Thank you," he was reluctant, but he was grateful of her consideration. As his breathing slowed, he began to realize that that flare had left him a little sore.

She stood and gathered her weapons to her side, paused, then walked back to him and kissed him again, harder.

"Good night, Fenris," she said, and he watched her leave the room.

.:x:.

As soon as he heard the door shut behind her, Fenris knew he made a mistake. He prowled the mansion restlessly for an hour before sinking into the fireside chair again. He looked around, torn between feeling elated at Hawke's willingness to be with him and deeply unhappy at her departure, when his eyes fell on a large ceramic vase in pieces in the corner.

 _The one I broke the last time she left_ , he thought, snorting. But his smirk slipped away instantly as he remembered the pain he had felt that night, after his markings had caused him to push her away that time, too.

 _Not again_.

Fenris rose from the chair and, without a second thought, climbed out onto the moonlit rooftops of Kirkwall and strode off towards the highest one: the Amell estate.

x

x

.:AN: The next chapter will be the smut/lemon scene at Hawke's mansion. Some people don't like reading them, so I'm leaving it a separate chapter to this one if you want to skip! :.


	5. Together (smut, lemon!)

* _AN: this chapter is the smutty lemon, so if you're not into that sort of thing, go on and skip! The next chapter will begin with Hawke waking up to find Fenris fully dressed._

 _AN2: Author would like to remind people with vaginas (and other folx 2) that health is v important and remember to pee after you have sex! Consent is mandatory for all genders and relations! Birth control is great n all but you should use protection too (even between ladies, we forget gloves and dental dams too much)! Remember that most-if-not-all types of porn is idealized for the audience! AND there is no one right way to feel pleasure (just don't hurt people w/o consent, and have a safe word). Communicate with your partners, y'all, even (especially!) if your partner is your beautiful sexy self._

 _glitter and rainbows for everyone.*_

 _.:x:._

Hawke's window was shut when Fenris arrived, but a light still glowed from her room. He stood in front of the window and peered inside, where he saw Hawke, sitting on her bed with a book. He tapped on the glass and she jumped at the noise, but she hurried to open the window.

"Fenris, what-" she began, but he was already inside, reaching his hand out to her face.

"I could not be calm after you left- I can only think of you, nothing else," he interrupted her, "Forgive me, I cannot stay away of my own will any longer. Command me to go, and I shall." He waited with baited breath for her reply.

Hawke smiled up at him. "No need," she murmured, and without further instruction, Fenris crashed his lips into hers, pulling her into him, and she reciprocated, throwing her arms around him, pushing him against the wall.

His hands travelled from her cheeks down her neck, caressing her smooth skin, trailing his fingers over her ample breasts, feeling her nipples through the thin cloth. Hawke moaned softly into him, nibbling his lower lip gently, and Fenris could not wait any more. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, pushing her legs around his waist, and carried her to her bed, their lips still locked tightly together. Lowering her onto the pillows, he began a line of kisses down her jaw, neck, and collar until he reached her cleavage, pushing down the shoulders of her robe to expose her. He sat back, taking her beauty in, awestruck by her form.

"Maker... you are beautiful, Hawke..." he muttered, and she chuckled at him and tugged him back to her, kissing him again, starting to undo the clasps around his shoulders to take off his armor. He worked at his belt for her, loosening it before going back to her breasts. He tugged at the cloth belt that was around her waist and her robe fell away from her, fully exposing her naked body to him. After a second of marvel, he began kissing at her nipples, flicking his tongue over one while he fondled her other breast, encouraged by her moans and fingers running through his hair. Tentatively, he bit down on her nipple, causing her to gasp and pull his hair, and he let go immediately, concerned that he had hurt her.

Hawke looked down at his worried expression and laughed lightly. "I'm fine, Fenris. You were gentle, it felt nice." He smiled, relieved, and resume his position at her chest. She was soon moaning again, and this time, she gave him instruction, causing his heart to leap at her voice.

"Fenris…" she moaned, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue, "Take off your clothes… not fair…"

He grinned at her, and wasted no time in throwing off his armor and tunic to the floor, and she helped push off his pants as well. In seconds, Fenris was sitting in front of Hawke more bare and exposed than he had ever felt in his life… but he wasn't uncomfortable. Hawke was kissing him again, more slowly and carefully this time, and he felt more and more relaxed with each movement she made. She pushed him back gently onto the bed, and pulled away from him, kneeling over him on all fours. He trailed his hands absentmindedly along her breasts, hips, and down to her thighs, wondering what she was about to do.

"Let me know if it hurts, okay?" she said gently, and she began placing kisses down his body, making sure to avoid any lyrium, lacing her fingers with his. As she travelled down, his body gave a shiver and the markings gave a faint pulse of light as a low growl escape from his throat. She looked up, ready to stop, but he shook his head and told her, "I'm fine." After a moment of searching for the truth in his eyes, she believed him, and she smiled as she kissed his thighs, trailing her tongue closer and closer… until she finally reached his stiff member, and placed her lips at the base.

Fenris gave an involuntary moan, and he felt her hot breath as she chuckled lightly. As she let her tongue drag slowly up his length, he disentangled his fingers from hers to grip her hair- blue light danced across the walls, but he ignored it- this wasn't painful, it was nothing like he had ever felt before. Her warm tongue darted across his tip, swirling around, and he had only just let out his first breath when Hawke wrapped her lips around him, causing him to take a sharp inhale once more. She worked on him, slowly, sliding up and down, occasionally tightening her lips around him. Fenris couldn't stop himself from bucking his hips into her mouth when she slid down, his hand gripping a fistful of her hair, moaning with each stroke Hawke made. He felt something new now, growing inside him as Hawke moved her mouth on him.

"H-Hawke…" he groaned, his voice hoarse, his hips bucking more steadily. Suddenly, Hawke stopped sucking him and got back on her knees, reaching up to kiss him. Confused, he moaned his protest into her tongue, but she ignored him. Bringing her knees to his hips, Hawke reached between her thighs and took his still rock hard cock into her hand and placed his tip at her entrance. Fenris moaned again, her motions dawning on him as he felt her wetness, and he sat up slightly to grab her hips. Slowly, Hawke sunk down on him- their moans filled the room and she gasped, parting her lips from his as he filled her, pulling her hips down onto him as far as possible. A loud moan escaped from Fenris, and he closed his eyes, his head falling to her breasts as she sunk onto him, making his head blank with pleasure.

"Fenris," Hawke gasped, and she raised his face to look at him. Panting slightly, she began to rock her hips against his, making his eyes flutter shut again, him fighting to keep them open so he could watch her. "Fenris," she moaned again, and moved her hips more, making him buck into her as deep as he could.

"Hawke…" Fenris groaned as he gripped her ass, feeling her lips stroking faster now on his cock.

Hawke grabbed one of his hands and directed his fingers towards her thatch, pressing his fingertips in so he could feel a small, hard lump. She moaned and gasped at his touch, and Fenris understood. Gently, he rubbed and prodded as she rode him, making her moan louder and louder, until he was suddenly aware of the same feeling he had when she had been using her mouth on him.

"Hawke," Fenris moaned, urgent, panting, "Hawke, I'm going to…"

Hawke nodded, groaning at his touch. "Don't stop, Fenris…. So close…"

She gasped then, her eyes falling shut over her rolled eyes, and Fenris felt her tighten around him. He grabbed her waist with one hand to keep her on him as he bucked forcefully into her, and relentless stroked her with his other hand.

"Fenris!" He felt her body shudder as she collapsed onto him, pressing her lips against his and forcing her tongue onto his.

Fenris threw both his arms tightly around her as he felt her erupt with warm juices around him, and finally gave in to the swelling inside of him. Moaning loudly, he pushed into her, coming hard, her cries of pleasure sending him over the edge.

The blue light was blinding, but they both kept their eyes shut as they collapsed as one, trying to catch their breath. Fenris's mind went white, unable to decipher if he was feeling pleasure or pain, and his arms went limp, falling off of Hawke's back and onto the bed. For a moment, he lay there, not sure if he was quite conscious or not, until Hawke's voice came floating through a thick haze.

"Fenris…" she said softly, still breathing hard, "Are you okay?"

Fenris opened his eyes and looked up at her flushed face, her hair draped like a curtain around them. He smiled, so genuinely happy that he felt he would burst. He nodded and reached up and brought her back down to him, holding her close, ignoring her hands burning on his chest as he took in her scent. She gave a chuckle and whispered, "Good, you were wonderful" and reached up to kiss him before laying her head on his chest again. Fenris reached for the edge of the blanket and threw it over their bodies. Closing their eyes, their breathing slowed to a steady rhythm as their warmth coaxed them to give in to sleep.


	6. Memories

' _Leto.'_

 _A small girl was tugging on the sleeve of his scratchy tunic. Sunlight filtered in through the dusty window of the shabby wooden cottage, pouring light onto the table top covered in half done laundry. The girl looked up with wide eyes, fearful, as they listened to the talking outside the door. A woman and two men, growing louder and louder._

' _Please, he's only a boy-'_

' _These are orders from the Magister, elf, step aside! One male from each family-'_

' _He's just a_ boy _, please, I beg you- my children-'_

' _Stand down-AGH!'_

 _Scuffling, a woman's grunt of pain and a slam against the wall._

' _Damn she-elf… hold her there!'_

' _Yes, ser!'_

' _No!'_

 _The door flew open, a shadow of a large man blocking the sun. The girl moved behind her brother, still holding on to his shirt, whimpering._

 _Gruff hands grabbed hold of his arm, tugging painfully away from his sister and into the sun outside. The woman pinned against the house, sobbing, her long silver hair bunched in a fist of the slaver._

' _Mother!'_

' _Leto! LETO! Please…'_

 _Muttering from the neighbors, starting to form a small crowd. The slaver stops, surveying._

' _What are you slaves think you're looking at! Back inside, all of you! And make sure you don't forget- a male from every family for the highest prize, and your lives!'_

 _Shuffling away. The second slaver let goes of the elf woman, who drops to her knees, sobbing. An old woman and her daughter hurry to her quietly, comforting._

' _LETO!' She screams, tears streaming down her face, and attempts to jerk out of their grip and run towards the slavers. Her wide green eyes hysterical, flooding, desperate. They hold her back, pull her into the cottage and slam the door shut, and everyone can hear her wails of anguish continue inside._

 _The slavers drag him along, too strong for him to pull out of their grip, and they ignore his shouts as they take him away from the wooden sheds, away from the eyes that start to peer out of their windows again._

 _.:xx:._

Fenris woke with a start, head pulsing so badly that he had to shut his eyes again immediately. He was cold and sweating, his hair sticking uncomfortably to his forehead. Something warm stirred slightly, the feeling of long hair on his skin. He looked down at Hawke's sleeping face, still cradled in his arms, breathing deeply, steadily on his bare chest.

Fenris closed his eyes again and tried to remember. _A girl... no, a woman? Screaming… what were they saying-try to remember…_

His head was swimming, the same feeling that he had gotten outside the holding caves. He couldn't concentrate, not with Hawke's weight on his markings, which he could no longer ignore; they were burning so painfully that he wondered how they hadn't woken her as well. Carefully, so as not to wake her, Fenris slid his arm from out beneath her head and slipped out of bed, gently covering Hawke's bare shoulders with the fur throw. He dressed quietly, and sat next to the fireplace in the cold room. Fenris poked at the fire, igniting a new block of lumber as he tried to remember the dream. The pain was growing in his temple, and he could hear his blood pumping through. It seemed to be spreading- he felt a sense of unease and pain in his chest, filling up his throat and stinging his eyes.

 _Can't I have just one night without this suffering? Just one night with her, just to feel her warmth and her happiness take over me…_ His vision became blurry, alarming him. What was happening? Was his body failing on him? Something wet slipped down his cheek, and the blurriness was gone with a blink, replacing his vision with a shine, as though looking through thick glass. Fenris brushed away the drop on his cheek to inspect it. _Water… no… tears. Tears?_

He touched his face with both hands, feeling his wet skin and rubbing it away furiously.

"Enough," he whispered, as he brushed away the last of the tears from his lashes. It felt as though a dark, heavy blanket had been draped around him, pressing him down and suffocating his lungs. All the joy he had felt the night before, the elation from Hawke's acceptance, was invisible to him now- unattainable.

"Was it that bad?"

Hawke was sitting up in bed, looking over his fully dressed figure. She wore a small smile, but her eyes showed otherwise. Concern, fear… though Fenris didn't understand what she was afraid of. _Me?_

He stood up as she pulled her legs out of bed, tugging the blanket around her waist and thighs. Fenris drank in the firelight dancing across her body, flickering shadows over her breasts and neck, her long, dark hair cascading from her shoulders, most of it loosened from the small red scarf she used to tie it back. Her tattoos accentuated her cheekbones and jawline, and she looked hauntingly beautiful. Fenris swallowed hard and shook his head, fighting back the pain burning from his chest.

"It was fine…" his voice barely came out. "No… that is insufficient," he muttered, seeing Hawke's eyes fall away from him, looking doubtful. He walked over to her and knelt before her, grazing her face with his fingers, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "It was better than anything I could have dreamed," he murmured, making her meet his eyes. He needed her to understand, to know how he felt…

"Was it too painful?" she asked. She took in the dark circles forming under his eyes, the lingering sweat from his dream on his hairline.

Fenris looked down, trying hard to remember. The incessant throbbing in his head was making it difficult to concentrate, and the pain in his chest and gut were becoming too much to withstand.

"I began to remember… flashes of memories of my life before… this-this is too much. Too fast, I cannot… do this…" He met her eyes again, seeking desperately for acceptance, despite his overwhelming sense of dread and shame. Hawke's brows were furrowed with concern.

"Your life before? What do you mean?"

Fenris massaged his head absently. "I could never remember anything before the ritual," he explained, "but there were faces… words… For just moments I could recall _all_ of it… but now it's slipped away." He felt like a fool as he said it. He was running away because of a dream, a flashback that he could not remember.

"I've never been able to remember anything," he said, frantically, trying to explain, trying to validate the fear and shame that he felt. "To have it all come back in a rush, only to lose it… I can't…" he let out a shaky breath that had been trying to escape, and let his hand fall from her face, his fingers pushing the scarf from her hair onto her lap by accident. "I can't…" he whispered, choking back words that he wished he could say to her instead.

"We can work through this, Fenris," Hawke said, her voice almost pleading, uncertainty wavering around her words.

"I'm sorry," he replied, and lowered his face again so she could not see the tears that were threatening to fall. "I feel like such a fool...All I wanted was to be happy, just… for a little while…" Through the blur, he saw the red hair scarf on her lap, and his fingers clasped around it. He knew he had to leave… but he just wanted to be with her.

"Fenris-"

"I'm sorry," he said, and without looking at her, he stood, crossed to the window, and disappeared into the cold night.


End file.
